Toughts of a certian boy
by MoonPhoenix17
Summary: Uh...it's weird,but give it a shot!My only warning is:it's dumb...if you're bored,go ahead...


**Disclaimer:**I don't own Naruto or any of the characters...if I did,Naruto wouldn't be the main character...

**Toughts of a certian boy**

His eyes. That's the problem. They're so dark, it's impossible to get emotion from them.

His face is easy enough. His face (very handsome, as well) has three expressions- smirking, panic, and thinking. I want to see him smile. I want to see him scream, but not in pain.

His body language too follows these expressions.

His shoulders stiffen, his fists clench, and his legs bend slightly. These mean Sasuke is absolutely pissing his pants.

He likes blue. Not the light,sky blue,but deep blue. His bedsheets are blue.

But I'm not supposed to know.

He sleeps in too much, even though "late" for him is ten minutes before every one else.

Every morning he gets up, has hot cocko, does sit ups, and walks to the shops to get a newspaper. He reads this over breakfast. Then he showers (he uses soap.), dresses, and leaves the house.

He likes walking up hills.

He likes walking barefoot even more.

He wears shorts because grass against his legs makes him smile.

He has Nobuo Uematsu and Rammstein on his mp3 player (Christmas present from Shikamaru.), which he never uses. On his wornout, overused discman, he either has Rammstein,Scorpions and Kiss. He has a box of CDs, but he only listens to those 3 bands.

But I'm not supposed to know.

Sasuke Uchiha writes a journal..

He won't write in anything but a light,not thick pen,.He also draws and buys another sketchpad every fortnight.

His drawings are generally clips from memory, and so sketchy they're nearly incomprehensible. But if you look right, look through his eyes, they're so alive.

Sasuke doesn't colour his drawings.

He puts them in folders, by date.

And at the end of every week, the large pile of work goes into the attic and never comes back.

But I'm not supposed to know.

Sasuke doesn't sing along to his discman. He mouthes. He doesn't air guitar. He air-drums. He doesn't dance. He sways.

Sasuke sleeps in his boxers, with a T-shirt He starts off in January with two sheets over him, and takes one off in March. And in September one goes back on.

He kicks in his sleep. Kicks and rolls and mumbles. He doesn't snore.

Also, he sleeps like a rock. It's quite easy to climb in his window and lay next to him for as long as one dares.

But I'm not supposed to know.

Sasuke uses soap. A lot. Soap for himself, his hair. Soapflakes for dishes, and laundry. He washes his hands a lot.

He doesn't go out often, preferring to stay in and draw, or sit in front of the TV not watching it.

He doesn't drink much besides water, but he has an odd loving for fizzy drinks.

He can't eat without chopsticks. He can't use spoons.

And he can't use his hands on food. Never.

Only candy and sandwiches break that rule.

He likes butter. Butter, in everything. Sometimes he just has a scrape of butter from the tub.

He likes pocky. But what Sasuke really likes is to play with pocky, melting the chocolate onto his fingers, licking them clean, and dipping the biscuit in hot chocolate.

But I'm not supposed to know.

Sasuke spends a lot of time curled up in his chair, with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

His chair is the framework of an old armchair, with quilts stapled to it, covered in cushions. If you take the cushions out, your knees go up to your face if your ass reaches the bottom. But his chair is a work of art in itself. It also works as a cupboard, with books bent out of shape, packets of melted chocolate buttons, and cartons of apple juice all somewhere in the mess of bed pillows, tiny cushions, and old stuffed animals he'd "rescued" when young. Sasuke doesn't have the heart to abandon things.

Sasuke's house only has three rooms. The bathroom, his bedroom, and the kitchen/living room. He only has one cupboard, and that's in his bedroom. He has an attic, but it's a tiny triangle of space. Barely a meter high.

He has thousands of books, but with the lack of shelves they fill the house, in four-foot piles.

I've only been to his house with him once, and I stood awkwardly in the doorway (which is three feet away from the chair and two feet away from the stove.) waiting for a drink.

I've been in his house dozens of times, with stolen keys, or picked the lock with a hair pin, or just climbed in the window.

Everything in his house is clean. He has no vacuum, the carpet is kept tidy with a broom and a lot of determination.

But I'm not supposed to know.

Last time I lay next to him, he was exhausted. Bruise on his collarbone, from passion, not conflict.

Beautifully sated, naked for once. The sheets pooling around his waist like water. I wanted to touch, but I didn't dare.

Whoever had been lucky enough to sleep with Sasuke had ran away.

He didn't seem to mind.

He seemed almost angelic, hair tumbling across his face, lips swollen. I had to.

Sasuke tastes of salt and green tea.

But I'm not supposed to know.

-  
_  
"I've been looking for you baby  
Anyway that I can kind  
I was searching for your sweetening  
Because you never leave my mind  
I've been on the altavista  
I've been twice on the yahoo  
And everywhere I go  
There's always a clue,  
Always something about you  
that may help me get my hands on you- _

Like it's your birthday tomorrow,  
You're not getting anything you know  
It's your birthday tomorrow  
But I'm not supposed to know  
Not supposed to know.

Hacked into the school computer,  
Changed all of your "D"s to "A"s.  
Broke into the dentists office  
No you never needed braces  
No, you moved from another small town  
No you're never going away.  
Cause soon you'll fall in love  
The fortune lady said  
And I know who'll be the one  
To make your bed.

Like it's your birthday tomorrow,  
You're not getting anything you know  
It's your birthday tomorrow  
But I'm not supposed to know  
Not supposed to know.  
But I'm not supposed to know.

I've been talking to your best friend  
I checked out your highschool yearbook  
I was driving around your moms house  
She makes great coffee you know  
I spoke to your former girlfriends  
I know what I got to expect  
And yesterday you passed me by  
Nearly said hi  
I could have died  
I swear to god I started crying

it's your birthday tomorrow,  
You're not getting anything you know  
It's your birthday tomorrow  
But I'm not supposed to know  
Not supposed to know.  
But I'm not supposed to know."

* * *

Okay,I know it sucks,BUT it took me too much time to write it and I couldn't think of not posting it.And who's are the toughts?That I leave for you to think about!It can be anyone...I don't know if this will stay a one shot,it only depends on my reviews...So,please,R&R !


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